


An Affliction of Empathy

by MellifluousMelitele



Series: Other Medicine [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, he deserves something nice, this poor man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellifluousMelitele/pseuds/MellifluousMelitele
Summary: "I strive to live like a person, and it means that I have ceased to feel good among people as well as among my own. Maybe I made a big mistake."An interlude. Regis, anathema and living under the radar in Nilfgaard, opens a shop and makes some new friends. Things seem to be going well.
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Other Medicine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730095
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	An Affliction of Empathy

**Author's Note:**

> No smut in this one. Sorry.
> 
> UPDATE: This fic is on hiatus indefinitely. Sorry folks :/ Life caught up with me.

_"I strive to live like a person, and it means that I have ceased to feel good among people as well as among my own. Maybe I made a big mistake."_

**..........**

The bell rang over the shop door.

“We'll be with you in just a moment!” Regis called from the back room. He was taking inventory, marking down which herbs and alchemical ingredients he needed to replenish. _Plenty of arenaria, bloodmoss... Almost out of buckthorn, though._ He took notes on his ledger. _Seek divers at the docks - add to monthly budget._

Regis enjoyed playing the shopkeeper. Most of his customers only wanted perfumes and simple remedies, but they were always so grateful when he provided what they were looking for.

Several months had passed since he first opened for business, and he was slowly but surely assimilating. Folks recognized him at the market now. He made inside jokes with the fishmonger’s wife and the baker, swapped stories with the old men in the park. He even hired a shopgirl, Adelaide, only twelve years old, to run errands and help with customers. In return, he paid her three florens a week, and he let her and her little brother sleep in cots in the laboratory.

He was becoming part of the community. Building his own little place in the world.

There was still a persistent nagging at the back of his mind, as there always had been - an anxious reminder that _you need only slip up once, and they’ll come for you with pitchforks._ But it was easier to ignore now that he was preoccupied with life's mundanities. He was living at a human pace, caught in the mad scramble of their lives and livelihoods.

“Can I help you?” Adelaide’s voice rang clearly from the front room.

“I'm here to see the owner.” A woman’s voice, smooth and deep.

Setting down his ledger, Regis lifted a leather apron from a hook on the wall. As he nudged open the storeroom door with his foot, he was hit by an unusual scent wafting from the front room.

Lilac and gooseberries.

“I can help with whatever you want. I know all the herbs and everything.” Adelaide sounded reproachful. “I can make any potion just as good as Mr. Godefroy.”

A light laugh. “I’m sure you can. But right now I would like to speak with Mr. Godefroy. He’s... a friend of a friend.”

Tying the apron around his waist, Regis curiously poked his head past the doorpost. Adelaide was talking to a woman with dark hair and violet eyes, dressed all in black in the style of the Nilfgaardian high court. 

“Lady Yennefer of Vengerberg?” Regis stepped into the room.

Yennefer turned and smiled. “Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy. A pleasure.”

Regis bowed low. 

“Call me Regis. And the pleasure is mine, I assure you. Your reputation precedes you.”

Yennefer cocked an eyebrow. “Dare I ask which reputation?”

Regis chuckled. “Geralt has always spoken very highly of you.” Turning, he addressed Adelaide. “I can take things from here. How about you run and fetch Jason from the market? Maybe buy us some supper while you’re at it.” He tossed her a couple of coins.

Adelaide looked suspiciously between the two of them before shrugging and running off. She left the door swinging open behind her. 

“An intrepid child. I like her,” Yennefer said.

“I like her too. She's a very determined young woman. Slept on the streets for months with her brother Jason - she kept them alive through sheer tenacity.” He moved to close the door. “But what brings you to the City of Golden Towers? And to my shop, of all places?”

Yennefer sighed. "It seems the new emperor is having trouble acquiring a court mage. I'm working on an interim basis until he finds a suitable replacement." She frowned and bent down to examine a glass cabinet full of vials and phylacteries. "As to why I’m in your shop, I’m brewing a potion that requires some rather rare ingredients, ones I would usually ask Geralt to procure for me. Since he is several kingdoms away at the moment, I asked around and heard from a colleague that a new apothecary had opened recently. One whose proprietor could obtain, well. _Anything_.”

“Hmm. Such as?” 

Yennefer turned to face him. “Grave hag blood?”

Regis looked uncomfortable. “Ah. That was… an ill-advised sale. But she did seem rather desperate.” He paced behind the counter.

“She _was_ desperate.” Yennefer watched him closely. “Trying to lift a time-sensitive curse. But apparently you had the blood for her within a day. She thought you must have a witcher on call, or a knight, to get it so quickly.” Yennefer stepped up to the counter. “I was intrigued by this mysterious alchemist. It didn’t take much investigating before I realized who you were.”

“Hm.” _How easily she found me. How easily others might find me._ Regis reached for a rag and began dusting off the already spotless countertop. “What ingredients are you looking for?” he asked distractedly.

“Archespore petals, among others.” She pulled out a list and handed it to Regis.

“Nasty creatures. I don’t harvest them often, but I do believe that I have a few petals left in stock. Let me see…” Turning to the shelf behind him, Regis began picking out herbs. He could feel Yennefer’s gaze on the back of his head. Evaluating.

“To be perfectly honest, Regis, Geralt asked me to keep an eye out for you. He thought you might be headed down this way. He worries, you know.”

"Ah." Regis paused. "I’m… touched.” He felt his cheeks grow hot as he resumed gathering Yennefer’s wares. “How is he? Has he finally committed to retirement?”

"About as much as I have, I suppose." She sounded amused. "Once he eradicated all of the monsters in the valley, he grew restless. Travels abroad for odd contracts now in the warmer months, but manages to stay put through harvest time and the winter.”

“Well,” Regis said, bundling the herbs in a parcel. “I’m not particularly surprised. He didn’t seem quite ready to stop witchering, last we spoke.” He placed the bundle on the counter.

As Yennefer pulled out a coin purse, he shook his head. “It’s on the house, Lady Yennefer. You’re a friend.”

Yennefer gave a wry smile. “This is the emperor’s purse.” She measured out an appropriate sum. “Take it, please. And you needn't call me 'lady.'”

After a moment's hesitation, Regis scooped up the coins and dropped them in the till. “If you insist. Thank you, Yennefer.”

There was a brief pause as the sorceress fiddled with the parcel string. She looked conflicted.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Regis asked, concerned.

"Yes... though in a sense, you already have." She tucked the herbs into her bag, then looked him in the eye. “There is one more reason I sought you out." Her brows were drawn together. “You saved me. Years ago, at Stygga. I never thought I’d get the chance to thank you for that. So thank you, with the utmost sincerity. I owe you my life, and my family's lives. I owe you everything.”

Regis’s eyes softened. “That debt has been repaid, Yennefer. Geralt has saved me many times over, and you have saved him, and Ciri has saved us all. But… you are welcome.”

Yennefer gave a nod. She cleared her throat and stood a bit straighter.

“I ought to be getting back now. I've a meeting with a viscount," she said. "But I would like to visit on occasion. Perhaps for tea?”

“Of course,” Regis said enthusiastically, fangs glinting as he smiled. “I would be delighted.”

“I have so many questions for you. About you and Geralt, your adventures together.” She smirked. “I heard that some of your more recent escapades were rather… intimate.” 

Regis turned red. “I’m not quite sure I-”

“It’s alright, Regis. I don’t mind. I’m glad he has a friend like you. Someone with manners, at least.”

“Ah. Well,” he said awkwardly. “That’s okay then.”

“Thank you for the herbs," she said, opening the door. "They will be invaluable.”

“You're very welcome. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Count on it.” The sorceress's eyes twinkled as she turned and stepped out.

..........

Yennefer began dropping by every so often for tea with the old vampire. They talked of alchemy and history and Geralt, of the stories of their lives and the politics of monsters and men.

The sorceress grew fond of Regis, with his impeccable manners and subtle wit. The extent of his knowledge was breathtaking, but after several months, what truly struck her was his kindness. He was infinitely patient with Adelaide and Jason. Always willing to listen to Yennefer's grievances. He never seemed to be in a sour mood, regardless of rude customers or ridiculous local ordinances (Why on earth couldn't he sell aquavite as a 'mood enhancer'? What else would you call it?). 

He was confoundingly genuine, for someone who asked so many indirect questions. After weeks spent hobnobbing with Nilfgaardian nobles, anticipating backroom deals and political betrayals, Yennefer found his presence restorative.

Regis, too, breathed easier. He had missed this: talking candidly with a friend, no pretenses or false identities. Yennefer kept her secrets, to be sure, just as he kept his. But knowing that she knew what he was and cared not a whit beyond academic curiosity - it was as though a weight had lifted from his mind. 

Yennefer visited more and more often as the weeks passed, bringing books for Adelaide and sweets for Jason and the latest court gossip for Regis. Until one chill autumn morning when she rode up with a retinue of guards on horseback.

She had come to say goodbye. Regis's heart fell when he heard the news.

"I'll be back for a few weeks in the spring, to see whether the emperor's new mage has blown the palace to bits," she said. "But I shall miss you in the meantime, Regis. I've very much enjoyed our time together."

"The feeling is mutual," he assured her. They embraced in the cobbled street. "Please give Geralt my best."

"Of course. And, Regis -" She swung up onto her horse. "If you ever wish to leave Nilfgaard, you are always welcome at Corvo Bianco. Don’t be a stranger.”

Regis smiled fondly. "I shall try my utmost. Safe travels."

He watched her party trot down the avenue. When they disappeared around the corner, he went inside to make lunch.

..........

Winter in Nilfgaard was cool and damp. Regis settled into his home, learning the creaks in the stairs and the patter of rain on the roof. He grew used to the children, the way they bickered over breakfast and begged him for stories at bedtime.

He spent slow mornings teaching Adelaide the finer points of herbalism. She was a natural student and soon began experimenting on her own, staying up late into the night simmering concoctions.

Jason, meanwhile, grew quickly. For his sixth birthday, Regis took him to the cobbler for a new pair of boots. Afterwards, the child couldn't take his eyes off the shiny brown leather (until the next day, when he promptly muddied them wrestling in the marketplace.) 

Regis met more of his neighbors, most of whom were friendly enough. He still received the occasional odd glance - when he smiled too widely, or appeared too suddenly in a quiet room - but so far there had been no trouble. 

Winter stretched on, but the shop was warm and dry. All was well.

..........

Regis sat bolt upright in the darkness. Cold dread crept up his spine.

_Something was wrong._

Then he heard the scream.

Disappearing in a puff of smoke, Regis streamed down through the bedroom floorboards to the laboratory below. When he materialized, he saw a red-haired woman bent low over a struggling Adelaide. Jason was lying unconscious on the ground, blood seeping from his neck. 

_“Get away from them,_ ” Regis snarled. He unsheathed his claws as his face morphed, craggy and bestial.

The woman straightened. Blood dripped down her chin.

An alp.

“There he is, the blood traitor,” she drawled, lip curling. “Nice of you to provide appetizers.”

Regis roared, clashing his claws together. The alp vanished and reappeared immediately in front of him, snarling.

In an instant they were locked in combat. They formed a whirlwind of fangs and claws, knocking over furniture and gouging deep furrows in the wooden walls.

Regis’s heart jumped to his throat as he tried to stay in between the alp and the children. The alp, noticing his hesitance, attempted to dart past. Regis lunged forward, and, anticipating his movement, the alp swung, slicing his shoulder to the bone. Regis roared in fury and pain as his flesh stitched itself back together.

He hurled himself at her. They crashed into the laboratory desk, sending vials flying. An alchemical burner, simmering a potion on low, was knocked over by an errant claw. Ignited oil spilled across the desk. Regis hissed at the splashback, but the alp took the worst of it. She screamed as the scalding liquid ran down her arms.

The distraction was all he needed.

In a flash, Regis sunk his teeth into her throat and _ripped,_ feeling skin and muscle give way beneath his jaws. The alp crumpled to the ground, blood spurting from the gash in her neck. He spit out a chunk of flesh.

Breathing heavily, Regis turned. Adelaide cradled her brother in her arms, applying pressure to his wound. Jason was breathing, but he looked dangerously pale.

Immediately, Regis shifted back into his human form. “He’s bleeding out, let me -”

“Stay back!” Adelaide scrambled away from him, pulling her brother with her. Beside them, the burning oil had ignited the floorboards, spewing thick, acrid smoke into the air. Flames licked up the walls, casting a flickering red glow in the dark room.

“You’re safe now. No one will hurt you.” Regis pulled out a handkerchief and reached for Jason.

Adelaide screamed. She snatched a broken vial and, standing over her brother, pointed it at Regis with a trembling hand. “Stay away from us! Monster! You’re a _monster!_ ”

Regis’s heart sank. "I'm Mr. Godefroy. I just want to help you! Let me help you, your brother -"

"Stay the _fuck_ away from us, or I swear to the gods I'll kill you." Adelaide's voice broke.

Regis felt something drip onto his shoe. Looking down, he saw that the front of his tunic was soaking wet, matte black in the firelight. He became aware of a stickiness on his hands, his face… he was drenched in blood.

_Oh._

Adelaide had seen everything.

It was all over.

“Go,” Regis said quietly. “Save your brother. Alert the fire guard. I will be gone by the time they arrive."

Eyes wide with sheer terror, Adelaide picked her brother up as best she could and hauled him to the back door. Never taking her eyes off Regis, she pulled it open and stumbled outside. Hot smoke billowed out behind her, and then they were gone.

..........

The roof had collapsed by the time the fire crew arrived. Guards and civilians formed a line, tossing bucket after bucket of water into the blazing inferno. The flames, leaping from the upper story window, had jumped to the baker's house next door.

The fire's heat radiated across the plaza, uncomfortably warm in the humid night. Overhead, the clouds reflected a dull, sickly orange. 

Regis's mind raced as he watched from a nearby alleyway. _They’ve got my scent now. If one found me, others may already be on my trail._

A crowd had formed. There, on the periphery - was that hooded figure watching him? _  
_

Regis stepped back into the shadows as more guards ran past, shouting and leading a wagon full of damp rags. Wooden wheels clattered over the cobblestones.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced. His last conversation with Yennefer. _“You are always welcome at Corvo Bianco.”_

Regis's brow furrowed. Somewhere in the distance, an alarm bell began to toll.

 _No. Too dangerous. I_ _need to shake them. Travel incognito, stay off the main roads. Avoid people for a while._

Regis felt tired. Deeply, bone-achingly tired. He had thought he was done running.

How naive of him.

Regis took one last, long look at the chaotic scene. Then he evaporated in a puff of smoke and disappeared over the dark and twisting streets.

..........

Yennefer wavered blue in the megascopic projection.

“The shop was entirely gone, Geralt. Burned to ash. I haven’t found any trace of him.”

“So there was no body?”

“There was a woman’s. Inhuman, to have survived the heat. But no, not his.”

“Okay.” Geralt hiked his swords over his shoulder. “I’m off. I’ll send you a message once I reach Metinna.”

“Be careful - ” Yennefer said to the empty room as the door swung shut behind him.


End file.
